For Science! or Easy Like Sunday Morning
by mdevile
Summary: Jim and Spock finally get their lazy Sunday. Another one shot from the Carving Out A Moment universe -does three stories count as a Universe?- but should stand alone just fine. Unapologetic schmoop and unmistakable SLASH.


**A/N:**

Priorities. I have them. I could teach a class!

Really, I don't want to live in a world where writing smut gets trumped by life anyways.

So for you, my roasted chestnut of yuletide cheer, we have a lazy Sunday. In bed. It's no wedding in Paris but I hope it holds you over ;)

Now, I really need to pack. XD

Oh, right! Warning: **SMUT**! Blah blah Mature Readers blah blah. Slash. Rambling metaphors and epic schmoopy fluff abound. But it's SMUTTY schmoopy fluff (the _best_ kind) ;)

Beta'd by insanekht over at the el-jay. Thank you so much!!

* * *

**For Science!**

or

**Easy Like Sunday Morning**

* * *

He wasn't used to waking in slow degrees. Since taking command of the Enterprise, waking up usually meant the buzz of the alarm, a red alert, or an urgent comm at oh-you're-fucking-kidding-me-thirty. It was a heavy groan and bleary eyes or an adrenaline-fuelled launch from the tangle of sheets.

The warm hand streaking a slow path up his chest and the press of dry lips at his throat was a nice change. He kept his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling fully and felt a sleepy smile glide across his face.

"You are awake, Jim."

He'd never get tired of hearing that voice purring into his ear and in his self-imposed blindness the beauty was clearer. He could pick out the distinct measures of Vulcan diction on the Standard, a clipping of consonants and melting of vowel sounds, that slight roll on the r. Smooth and perfect, he'd proclaim it his favourite sound if he thought Bones would ever let him live it down. It would remain a secret treasure and possibly the subject of one his double encrypted, retinal scan required, personal log entries.

He let his smile grow wider and turned his face to catch the lips before they moved away. A soft press, lightly parted lips allowing their breath to mingle, exchanging Spock's spiced tea and his own slightly sour coffee flavours in a mutual sigh. The roaming tickle along his side tightened into a loose grip on his hip, not demanding but still possessive in its absolute confidence.

A _very_ nice change.

He cracked his eyes open when he rolled to his side, keeping himself just far enough away that Spock's serious face filled the whole of his vision.

"Hey."

"Good morning, Jim."

The hand squeezed him gently and Jim arched into the press, bringing their chests together. Spock's eyes were calm on his, slight shifts in focus as he held their gaze making Jim try to catch each glint of light in the rich brown irises. This sense of overwhelming contentment was its own seduction and he revelled in the moment in which his world was narrowed to their combined body heat and the individual spikes of inky lashes surrounding the warmth of his lover's eyes.

"S'nice. Like this. With you."

"Yes. This is a highly pleasurable interlude."

He grinned at the formal phrasing, Vulcan precision elevated pillow talk into discourse. Sexy discourse, his favourite kind.

He leaned forward for another slow kiss, bringing his tongue out to explore the relaxed contours of Spock's bottom lip before pulling it between his. The dark eyes fluttered closed and he could feel Spock's intensity refocus to commit the soft sucking sounds to sensory memory. His dick twitched in lazy approval and he flicked his tongue along the crease of full lips before teasing his way inside the delicious heat.

He brought his hand up the long way, tracing a path over lean muscle and intriguing hollows before cupping his palm at Spock's neck. His fingers flexed once to adjust his grip over sleek hair and he used the leverage to tilt Spock's head a degree left to deepen his kiss. He explored the possibilities of the new angle, discovering if he swept his tongue just so he could reach the roof and that sensitive ridge just behind Spock's teeth. The one that made him make that adorable hum in the back of his throat, just like that.

Spock's hand was meandering over his back, feathering brushes up his spine and swirling strokes over his rib cage. The clever fingers sought the knot of tension that Jim always seemed to carry between his shoulder blades and worked him into lassitude with a series of circular strokes and spreading presses. He groaned in sweet relief when it melted away and broke his embrace to burrow into Spock's neck. He brushed his lips over collarbone and tickled his nose with the pepper of stubble over Spock's throat.

"This is acceptable?" So cautious with his strength, even when he could feel Jim going boneless beside him.

"Mmmm. No, s'great. Perfect." His words were garbled since he wasn't quite willing to move his mouth away from his study of the casually creeping green flush suffusing Spock's skin. He shimmied himself even closer and let his erection communicate his approval against Spock's thigh while he followed the copper heat to that spot underneath Spock's jaw. The one that made him suck in his breath through his teeth in a beautiful hiss that ran shivers down his spine, exactly like that.

Spock shifted against him, pushing his weight forward and up with calculated force that had Jim flat on his back, staring up into intense brown eyes, in one smooth motion. His hands were braced on either side of Jim's head, body curved over him, letting the shadows cut his taut abs into sharp relief. Another time he may have thrust his hips forward to encourage his lover to stop staring into him as if he were the most fascinating problem he'd ever encountered and put those strong hands to more productive use. Today he lounged beneath the welcome weight and let himself stare back, memorizing the heaviness of eyelids hooding the gaze and the smug tilt of sweeping brows. He would never look his fill at the gentle uptick of Spock's lips; he had a mental file of every shade of Spock's smiles, precious for their rarity. Another scrap of poetic rapture forever consigned to his personal log and these stolen idylls.

He lifted his hand to follow the angle of Spock's cheek, resting long enough to feel the silk of his eyelashes caress fingers before threading them into the thick hair.

His voice was husky and thick in his throat. "You're going to have to come down here, Mr. Spock. I have a powerful need to kiss you again."

"Is that an order, Captain?" Spock leaned down so the low purr of his words vibrated into him. "I confess that I am quite comfortable with our current position." A delicate lick preceded the soft kiss, disengaged playfully before Jim could deepen it.

A hand flowed up his torso, fingers splaying over his heart, pausing to measure the race of his pulse at his throat. Satisfied with his survey, Vulcan stoicism melted into a tiny, pleased smile. "I appreciate this opportunity to study you at my leisure while you are conscious."

Oh. Well then.

"Does this mean you've been watching me sleep again, Mr. Spock?" Jim traced the bridge of the strong nose and slid his finger into divot of the finely sculpted philtrum, enjoying the easy give beneath his press. "Taking advantage of my vulnerable state to think dirty thoughts at me?"

"No more than yourself, Captain." A hot tongue darted out to tingle a wet sweep along his knuckle. Another soft kiss, this time to fingertip. "You are aware, of course, that meditation does not imply nescience?" A tilt turned into a caress of his hand along the bristles of Spock's morning scruff. "Your lasciviousness is palpable across our quarters."

Busted.

His grin was completely unrepentant. "What do you propose we should do with my palpable lasciviousness then, Commander?" He rolled his hips lightly, savouring the friction and the answering flare of heat in his Vulcan's regard. "I have a few other tangible traits if you need inspiration."

Spock ground down against him, keeping the contact sinuous and teasing. A press of his thighs aligned their hips and every other twist slid their erections together. Sultry lethargy coiled at the base of his spine and Jim sighed his contentment into the languid air between them, fluttering his eyes closed to bask in the delicious sensation.

"It is my intent to take advantage of this opportunity to reacquaint myself with your body, Captain. I wish to observe these tangible traits until I am familiar with them all." He leaned forward until his words were puffing into Jim's ear. "I do not anticipate completing all of my research this cycle."

Jim's eyes snapped open. When did Spock get so fucking good at sexy discourse?

"You know of my commitment to the pursuit of scientific discovery, Spock."

His hold on playful sternness was shaky. His blood seemed to have migrated for Southern climes and he shuddered at the deliberate scrape of teeth on his jaw. "I, ah, submit myself for your cause. Enlighten me."

A gentle nip at his ear resulted in further blood loss.

"Thank you, Captain. I trust you will find my study illuminating."

Beyond doubt. Spock's fingers were already clarifying the finer points of tactile manipulations on the sensitized flesh over his pubic bone. Each brush came just a hair closer to his incredibly eager erection, waving between them like it knew all the answers. Spock shifted his weight to focus his attentions more closely on the ignorant jut of his hip and stroked a vivid lesson down his chest with his tongue.

He had his own wisdom to impart, he decided as he bit off the strained groan. It would be irresponsible of him to ignore his duty to scholarship in the gentle warmth of that gifted tongue. He started with a review of the basics, light ghosting touches over the slope of Spock's shoulders, a tighter grip on the neck muscles at the base of his skull and a dance of nails across his back. Spock's unintelligible murmur against his flexing stomach as he curled himself up was taken as approval.

He studied the head in his lap a moment, finding a different source of edification in the elegant line of Spock's body. The tip of one pointed ear poking out from artfully messed hair was impossible to resist and he curved down to touch it with his lips, nudging his lover into a position that would allow him to tease the apex with his tongue in the way that made Spock go completely still and slightly raspy, like so. He advanced the curriculum, cupping a palm over the curve of his ass, testing the malleability of sculpted flesh and muscle. He was rewarded with a stuttering gasp from his Vulcan, each broken breath answered with a flash of heat singeing his nerves.

In the distracted space between the quiet shudder and Jim's satisfied smirk, a powerful arm snaked up to push him back against the bed and the other locked behind his waist. His hands relinquished their apprenticeship of the trim waist to support himself as he craned his neck to better attend his instruction. Spock's eyes danced with quiet mirth when they flashed up to his, effectively fixing him in place while he demonstrated his own knowledge of Jim's breaking points.

He'd forgotten about that cluster of nerves at the rim of his navel. Luckily, Spock was not so careless with details. He quested with his tongue, easily rediscovering the spot that would make Jim jerk, which he did, right on cue, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip in a futile effort to hold back the moan. Spock's fingers routed down to stroke the bend of his knee, like so, using Jim's helpless melt to splay his legs farther apart. A strong arm hefted the boneless limb over his shoulder and Jim caught the amused challenge in the lift of eyebrows before Spock fixed his complete focus on the task of making Jim fall apart.

Absolute dedication to an experiment was a crucial trait in a scientist. As soon as he could breathe again, he'd be sure to let Spock know that his thorough approach to the problem at hand was in keeping with the highest traditions of scientific method. If he could ever breathe again.

His head fell back against the pillow and he gave himself up to the hot mouth pulling against him. Spock's talented tongue was swirling the ridge beneath the head, compacting the ball of tension in his belly to the brink of eruption. He thrashed against the sheets, bucking up and twisting away in the same frenzied motion, straining against the iron strength of the arm banded over his chest. His cries were mewling and weak, the confident laving up his length luring them out from between choked gasps and hissing inhalations.

Spock's intimate knowledge brought him to completion just at the edge of insanity. He came with a convulsing yell, twitching and shuddering as the hot mouth stayed fixed over him, tongue brushing along the shaft as blindly he rode the wave of orgasm.

When he remembered he needed to open his eyes in order to see, Spock had grabbed the edge of the sheet, _mysteriously_ free of the military fold, and was gently wiping the sticky come off his stomach. His arm was shaky as he held it out, not so much drawing Spock close as nudging him in. The green flush of his Vulcan's erection was strong against his hip but the lips against his were gentle. He sighed into the mouth, tasting himself and tried to get his fried brain to communicate to his hand that it really should get over this beautiful paralysis and take care of his lover.

"Mmmm... Soon as I can move again, it's your turn."

Spock pulled back, human eyes smoky with desire and humour.

"I have not finished gathering all the relevant data, Jim. I anticipate we have several hours before we will be able to get to your own study."

Oh. Well then.

A nice change, he mused when Spock moved to nuzzle at his neck.

An _unbelievably_ nice change.


End file.
